don't talk to strangers

Monday was a continuation of the New Year's feast from the previous evening. Second Night was held at a family friend of Brett's and the feast was nothing short of amazing. All prepared by Cecile, the dinner began with unbelievable perogis in chicken soup broth, followed by the most diverse and abundant variety of beautiful salads and vegetables, succeeded by hearty briskets and and schnitzels and brought home by homemade ice cream, passionfruit meringue and decadent honey cake. We sat at the "kids table" with the rest of the "kids", most of whom have accounting or law degrees. The entertainment for the night was one of the cousins who, due to his Asperger's Syndrome, is a musical savant. He was actually incredible. His repertoire (all memorized) spanned the last century of music and he comfortably brought out his guitar and performed an array of numbers for a tremendously impressed audience. He even explained Robert Johnson's origins to the crowd in an American accent, so as to accommodate my "ear" and pay homage to Johnson's homeland.

Tuesday, I made it home in time to catch a session of "Body Pump". What I feared would be an intense class of intimidatingly muscular men and incessant amounts of grunting actually resolved itself to be a class full of older women who were committed to combatting osteoporosis. Regardless, the class itself is an excellent workout and led by a woman with the coloring of Hulk Hogan and the biggest hair extensions I've ever seen up close. Afterwards, I went to Maddie's house for a catch-up and we ate beautiful lentil soup and fresh fruits, discussing humanitarian ventures and existing in a perpetual state of academia.

Wednesday, I went for dinner at Annie's house, where we had a risotto and cobbler in the name of comfort food. The winter continues on here and feels like it is only getting colder. Since this is a valid excuse to eat incessantly thick and indulgent meals, we figured we should capitalize on it. Jess and Lauren joined and we sat with blankets in the kitchen, listening to some of the radio's newest tunes and chatting about how to have male roommates and survive the experience.

Thursday was a lovely evening, kicked off with an intense spin class. The instructor wanted this atmosphere to be as "club like" as possible so as to convince us that biking for an hour at a high speed was actually an enjoyable, "party comparable", experience. This meant I was intrigued by my "now purple" shirt and flourescent shoelaces until my oxygen ran out five minutes in and I spent the rest of the class focusing very intently on staying on the bike seat/breathing. I met Brett, Matty and Holly for Nandos and after a fulfilling dining experience, we ventured to Classic for the premiere of Ruby Sparks. Here we met up with Hannah and Captain Australia. Captain Australia is Matty's friend, Jimmy, who does things like runs across deserts to raise money for Save the Children. The theater's website had said "No Free Tickets Available", which I took to mean that it was sold out, prompting me to send out a despairing text to the group. Recognizing my error (in Australia, no free tickets means no promotional tickets are available for fundraisers and such), Kappy informed the group that the movie was, in fact, full of open seats and that I, in fact, was culturally stunted. Ruby Sparks was too good and we all decided to find the nearest type-writer and write the next great American/Australian novel to ensure living in a cool house like Paul Dano.

Friday, I had Shabbat with Brett and his beautiful family and it was voted that Turkish Delight is the grossest candy to come out of Turkey and Carnival ice cream cake is the best thing that has ever been made in the world. Matty met up with us afterwards and we watched Parks and Recreation bloopers until we cried.

Saturday, Martha and I were the ultimate gym kids at Body Pump, celebrating our early class with a reward of sunshine on the beach. We got ready afterwards and went to Fairfield Boat House for Ciara's big birthday celebration. After a few directional errors and an exasperated cab driver, we met the crew at the boathouse and began our indulgent day of sunshine and cider. After a discussion of religion and the gothic wedding being held near the boathouse (it all started with Susie's fascination with Slipknot...), we went to Richmond for a banquet of Vietnamese food. This led to Vic Bar and a night of espresso martinis and dancing. I met my match in American hip hop music fans in Ivan and Kevin but still own the rights to teaching all of Australia how to "dougie". 

My departure from the train later that night was one of my more graceful moments of all time. I was wearing heels (which in itself is a rarity and said rarity is noticeable from my strange gait) and I mentally committed to walking as if was effortless. As I essentially strutted home (a strut would have been the manifestation of my "effortless" walking), a person behind me further boosted my confidence.

Stranger: Wow, are those comfortable?

Me: Ah. These things? Psh. Absolutely. The platform makes the heel barely noticeable (lies).

Stranger: Really? They are just huge. Really pretty, though. Don't think I could wear them myself. Not really a heels girl.

Me: I totally understand. Me neither, really. But it is all about the mental commitment!

It is at this time that God decides to smite me by magically making the pavement uneven. In this moment, my ankle loses any strength that it was feigning, rolls over and forces my completely unbalanced, 5 inch taller self to tumble, head first, into the pavement. 

Stranger: Oh my god. I shouldn't have talked to you about the heels.

Me: (extricating myself from the road and adjusting my dress from its newfound place around my shoulders) No, it is really fine. On account of the fact I should be able to talk and walk at the same time.

I learned two things from this experience. Don't wear heels and don't talk to strangers if you intend on walking at the same time.

Sunday, I went to Ellie's house for a sunny, Sunday BBQ. How exciting, American friends...an actual Australian barbie! It was a feast of beautiful salads and fish and sausages and onions. And the apple cake (an homage to the impending end of time with the winter fruit) hit the spot. We sat in the sunshine until the shade changed our minds and then reconvened around the Scattegories for five raucous rounds of serious word warfare.  Dinner at the Noone house celebrated Rosie's return and then I had improv practice! I'm in a troupe that will be part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival in the next few weeks. The practice was good and exciting and weird as improv practices usually are. It is so nice to be back in the world of created characters and Saturday Night Live ambitions.

Love you and miss you xx


Things I can't stop listening to this week! 

Ca Plane Pour Moi: Plastic Bertrand

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVDfmn_TMkI

Thee Oh Sees: Wait Lets Go

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/tracks/14295-wait-lets-go/

Purity Ring: Fineshrines

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xqw4wo8vdY8

Pure Bathing Culture: Ivory Coast
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLnmZMD2qXM

Lake Street Drive: Live Session

http://www.npr.org/event/music/160607630/lake-street-dive-a-string-band-with-soul

gym and wine-induced tales

Week 5 blog must begin with an homage to his excellence, Wes Anderson. It is with great excitement that I inform you "Moonrise Kingdom" has made it to Australia. Hannah, Kappy and I ventured to see the opening of Moonrise at a theatre in the city and I could barely keep myself from reminding them America has reveled in the movie's glory for months. I was also bursting with the desire to sing along with the soundtrack. Anyone familiar with the music in the movie would agree that no one should sing it aloud unless they are a children's choir so it was best that I kept my bursting to myself. A large popcorn and bag of Mnm's later, we filed into a PACKED theatre to watch the film and feel inspired by youthful innocence, validated in our greatest dreams of love and adventure.

Tuesday was Ciara's birthday, which equates to a feast in the Noone vernacular. The whole family gathered for an amazing dinner of mango chutney chicken and beautiful greens. I say whole family very literally, as one of the two traveling daughters was phoned in on Skype for the big birthday song. 

Wednesday, I made the commitment to the gym located approximately two seconds from my place of residence. This is because "there is no excuse", a strange adage that is often applied to those living within 25 miles of a gym.  I'm not sure who decided that everyone who lives within this distance should bear this guilt or have to defend not liking/not feeling compelled to lift heavy blocks in the company of perspiring people, but I gave in to the social pressure and signed up. Wednesday night, as dictated by earlier posts, is X Factor night. Know that nothing else gets in the way of that.

After work on Thursday, I went and lifted heavy blocks in the presence of other perspiring people. I also ran on a machine but did not move anywhere. The gym is such a strange place. Luckily, I'm so busy contemplating the social constructs of the gym that I barely notice the time on the treadmill. After the gym, I had a beautiful dinner with Martha, Emma and the rest of the Noone family, filled with dynamic Irish history lessons and detailed accounts of UK living. I left the house to meet Brett, Daniel and Pece for drinks at La La Land shortly thereafter. The night was lovely and the conversation abundant, mired only by a strange skateboarding incident, where a skateboarding youth was pushed from his means of transport by the unimpressed bouncer. This was shortly followed by a vehicle striking Daniel's car, forcing us to worry that we would be involved in the next small catastrophe. 

Friday morning, the sun was shining and I got to catch a run on the beach before work. Such a nice way to start, particularly when the sun greets you off of the water, instead of polar winds.  I had a shift with Beat and got my music fill, writing a series of press releases to the tunes of the "Is This It" album. Musical inspiration for anyone with ears. Afterwards, I headed home. Ambitions of returning to the city were abandoned in the face of a warm home and cloudy tea. Jack and I went for falafel and practiced our Turkish and Kate and I bonded over channel surfing and romantic comedies. 

Saturday began with a walk on the beach with Em and Martha, "to wake up our minds". It was followed by coffee treats. Let me just give you some incentive to fly to Australia right now. Iced coffee actually means "I'll have my coffee with ice, three scoops of french vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of hazelnut syrup". I didn't even have to verbalize this, this treasure was handed to me. If that doesn't get you to buy a ticket, I don't know what will. I then trained into the alternative pocket of the city for a vegetarian lunch with Annie and Jess and their friend, Molgana. "Veggie Bar" had the most unbelievably diverse menu, though meatless, and was assuredly one of my best meals yet. Not to mention, it being in Fitzroy means the setting itself is super cool and filled with people with gaged ears and band t-shirts. I followed the girls to the famous Rose Markets and strolled through vendors with the most unique array of things, from children's books converted into agendas to Frieda Kahlo lamps to necklaces made from stamps floating in resin. I abandoned the girls in my own pursuit of bookstores and found myself back in Polyester, one of the coolest bookstores in either hemisphere. Had an awesome peruse through the classics but upon venturing to the music section, was duly rewarded with an entire section committed to John Cage's poetry. The coolest! 

Walked myself down to the Melbourne Museum and spent the afternoon in the exhibits. The best floor was the Mind and Body exhibit. The room was split into the two entities. I braved the "Body" aspect first and even made it through the embalming room (when I say made it, I don't mean I survived the embalming process...the exhibit makes a point to emphasize that this is impossible). Rather, I kept myself from fainting long enough to progress to the Puberty section. This is actually where I chose to end my time in the "Body" side, as the life-size photos of naked children, adolescents and adults struck a very strange chord. Could be blamed on the Catholic school sexual education course, the innocence of which has left me quite uncomfortable in the face of such exhibits. It also might have been the couple intensely reading the pre-natal section, flanked by the photo representation of the birth canal. Regardless, the "Mind" section was so excellent. It explored everything from dreams to language capacity to emotions, all the while providing interactive exhibits to test one's aptitude in all of the above. The Noone house was throwing a party in honor of the impending AFL Grand Final when I returned, so the house was full of footy, wine and Indian food. Multicultural city, multicultural household.

Woke up early Sunday morning to grab a workout before having the biggest brunch of all time with Bretts. We have continued our committed effort to "sharesies", where we order our meal of choice and then split our meals. Hugely beneficial for the indecisive or those with a varied palate. After a combination of everything on the menu, we parted for pre-Rosh Hashanah resting. For me, it was time to be in Russia with "Crime and Punishment". I trained to Ellie's for honey cake and tea prior to braving her family's Rosh Hashanah dinner. She prepped me with the family lineage, noting everything from creepy uncles to wine-smashing uncle's girlfriends. She has never been more accurate. Her creepy uncle, intact with knitted sweater, the miraculously refilling bottle of wine in hand and a head pimple, played his part as indicated by Ellie's predictions. Her wine-smashing, girlfriend- of-uncle is worth quoting. Imagine her speaking in the loudest, most stilted posh accent, with syllables often being lost to a wine-induced drawl.

Wine-Smasher: Might I inform you about my grandson. He is an absolute joy!

Me: Mhm. 

Wine Smasher: Just the most pleasant young child. Always with the sweetest expression. His older sister just wants someone to love and absolutely showers him with attention and affection. Just darling!

Me: Aw. Yeah, thats nice.

Wine Smasher: (hysterically laughing) And he is just brainless! We are so concerned! A child with such a sweet disposition, who is so very...malleable...well, he couldn't possibly have an ounce of intellect!

Me: Well. That took a turn.

And this was just glass one. Her strange stories, undulating from sweet anecdotes to desperate cries for help, were made more tolerable by unbelievable shortbread cookies and apples and honey. And having Ellie close by to exchange concerned glances. 

Shana tovah to all of you at home!

Lots of love always. Hugs and kisses xoxo

Music! Music! Music!

Little Scout: Go Quietly

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XtgzvyTxI0

MS MR: Dark Doo Wop

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77ZwHQI3J40

Ball Park Music: Surrender

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rPgQ6B6CAE&feature=related

White Denim: Darlene

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED3BELccYsM

Run DMT: Romantic

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gm-bzIa2RA8

op shops and book policies

Alas, week four has arrived. A month certainly feels official. With this week comes the depart of our beloved Sophie, who left for Europe after I got home from work on Monday. She was not without my Whitman-heavy, "celebrate yourself, sing yourself" speech, of course.  Today I committed to my new project of "One Book a Week" because I have an hours worth of train riding daily and should utilize the time to cultivate my mind, rather than only imagining musicals or bobbing my head almost rhythmically to Kanye West. 

Tuesday evolved into a city night and it couldn't have been better to drink in the city as the sun set. I trained into Flinders Street Station and walked along the sunlit sidewalks, smiling and reveling in the spring air and city scents. I wandered to the school grounds of my old university and sat on the lawn as the sun set, extending my book reading efforts to lawns and enjoying the last moments of sun before the cold. I then met up with Mel and Brett, who, in their lawyer attire, looked very much like my parents. We walked the long journey to Chinatown, committing ourselves to the most glorious meal (as dictated by urbanspoon), and even denied ourselves crepes and any other less than stellar meal along the way. Our meal was as delicious as desired and well-deserved, given the journey done in high heels.

Wednesday was yet another city night, as it was my meeting with the general manager of "Right Now", the human rights website for which I'll be producing radio shows. Look out for that! Such a cool multimedia project (combining arts and music to inspire human rights dialogue) and even more, such a cool guy! I met him inside of a cafe/bar that was a converted storage space and had since been lined with newspapers all over the wall. The newspapers had been coated in paints and shellacks and the tables, chairs and adornments were all varied in color, size and era. Such a cool collection. He rocked up in a fedora, with a beer in hand, and offered me the position after a very passionate monologue on my part, which ended up straying from Sudanese immigration policy to a vested interest in the Bolshevik Revolution. It is probably best that he knows what he is dealing with up front.

After work on Thursday, I had a bit of time to explore Richmond. Intending to get to Ciaras around 5:45, I strolled around and took in the cool warehouses, art studios and modeling agencies around her home. She had mentioned that her roommate would be home to let me in, as her gym session took longer than intended. After being frighteningly awkward with the roommate who opened the door (Ciara had failed to mention that he was Greek and thus, had the blood of gods in his lineage), I was allowed in her home. The interaction was as follows:

Me: (upon door opening) Oh. Um. Am I in the right place?

Greek God: I don't know?

Me: (blanking on my friend's name) Is this...the...um...Noone residence?

Greek God: Sort of? I mean, she lives here.

Me: Oh ok, yes that's a great thing. Yes. She is expecting me. 

Greek God: She's at the gym.

Me: Yep, knew that. Because we've spoken. On a phone before. We're friends (insert awkward laugh)!


Somehow he let me in. When my previously nameless friend arrived, we all packed into her car for an awesome night of pizzas and live music. An American woman was at the gig, as her sons best friend was playing, and she offered me the opportunity to "come have American chat" in wine-drenched breath. Then she proceeded to call me Bridget and I decided that it was unlikely she would remember that offer in the morning.

Friday, I got the opportunity I've been dreaming about since I developed such a keen interest in music, circa age 3 when I lived only for "Wee Sing". I was offered a position with the big music magazine in Melbourne. I had a "trial" at the office, which was this super cool ramshackle building that opened up into a modern waiting room. The stairs were lined with Lou Reed canvases and led to the room of all things holy. The room where the other journalists were sitting was brimming with energy: interviews were being hosted, the Divine Fits were being streamed over the speakers and unopened, unreleased albums were strewn about the coffee table. I nearly died from happiness. The producer told me he would let me know if I had the position by Tuesday, but much to my surprise, he told me Friday night that I was on the team. Got the news during a lovely Shabbat dinner with Tracy, Brett, Matty and Kaz and in turn, an already awesome dinner was made even better. 

Saturday, Martha and I woke up early to drive down the peninsula to Lord Somers Camp. Here, we were volunteers for SAIL, a weekend-long camp for child refugees from Sudan and Kenya. Saturday was such a blast,a combination of sports, break dancing classes, team bonding and mess hall food fights. Our group of kids were so special, and very interested in my strange accent. It was such a privilege to interact with them and hear their stories, particularly Ahmad, for whom I developed a special affinity. So shy originally, and much smaller than the other boys, he quickly became the star of all of the plays, videos and talent shows. He was gorgeous. After camp, Martha and I drove back to the city to catch Hannah's star performance in Brunswick. The performance was a series of ten, ten-minute plays. The emcee of the event was a man shooting just north of 6 feet tall, decked out in heels, a variety of dress ensembles and wigs, and hot pink lipstick that just ran into his facial hair ever so slightly. His acapella numbers ("Diamonds are a Girls Best Friends", for example) were hysterical and allowed for comfortable intermissions between some admittedly cringe-worthy acts. Hannah's performance was superb, however, and we celebrated her afterwards with a late night Indian feast. After we had our fill of butter chicken and tikka masala, we scooped her friend Mariana from Mexico from a salsa bar and met up with Brett and Matty for the first party of the night. Op Shop (thrift store in American) was the theme and we danced passionately, wrapped in tacky sweaters, to the trans music pounding around us. Deciding this music was in no way the acceptable soundtrack for the night, we pushed on to Holly's 80's themed soiree and continued our movement for the rest of the nights to the world's favorite one hit wonders. 

Sunday, I cooked a proper Cuban feast for the Noone family, introducing them to the flavors of Miami in makeshift, Australian form. They don't even have black beans in the general supermarket here, a testament to the lack of Cuban influence on this side of the world. Did my best to do my secondary culture (a by-product of living in South Florida) justice! Mr. Noone still only addresses me in a Southern accent, however, a trend that will surely be exacerbated when I cook shrimp n' grits for them next weekend. Have to brag about the weather today, the sun shone all day and the sun actually lit the entirety of the bay as it set. The water looked electrified. Wish you could see it with me!

SO much love, as always. And hugs and kisses too.

Music and short films for you! xoxox

Girls: The End of the World (Skeeter Davis Cover)
http://www.tunetheproletariat.com/audio/End%20of%20the%20World.mp3


Chairlift: I Belong in Your Arms (Japanese Version)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RRc0T3l1Co


The Preatures: Take A Card
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtDXezAhes8


The Divine Fits: Would That Not Be Nice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jY6q8gp6wwE


And a short film by Dirty Projectors! Yes!
http://www.pitchfork.com/tv/youtube/5-special-presentation/402-dirty-projectors-hi-custodian/

warm kitchens

Monday, I was officially in my new home and still pretty under the weather. Decided to take a sick day and recuperate a bit. Used the day to rest after a few nights of sleeplessness (which were further exacerbated by X-Factor reruns) and took a really nice walk on the beach with Martha to get some movement in my bones. That night, we saw Martha's friend (and now, luckily enough, my friend) Rhys and his band Mouth Tooth perform live with the Teskey Brothers. They played at The Toffe, which is this especially cool venue that overlooks the city center. Mouth Tooth was very impressive, the band itself seemed to transcend the stage with Rhys’ combination of airy and gutteral vocals over a funky guitar. The Teskey Brothers were also unreal, playing the highest pedigree of blues and paying homage to B.B King in a variety of well-played covers.

Tuesday was back to work but today had a performance-based twist. My boss asked the team to “role play”, which involved one of us assuming the role of the client and the other assuming the role of web guru. Apparently, the fear in my eyes upon being asked to come out of my Spotify coma suggested I would love to act as the web guru. The partner in the company  (also known as the man that created the website) approached me as “the client” and I had to input his information as if I created the website. The interaction went as follows:

Alex: Ok, I’m your client.

Me: Ok.

Alex: So put my information in.

Me: Right. Ok. Here?

Alex: You tell me.

Me: Sure. Yep. Alrighty, just finding it (awkward exhale because I absolutely cannot find it). Yep. Have a good weekend? (this was my well-thought out attempt at distraction)

Alex: Yep.

Me: Ah, great. So glad to hear it. Sounds like you did a lot. Hm. Yep (pressing random buttons and search bars at this point). Aha. Here we go, right here.

Me (in web guru form): Hello. Thank you for using our product. What is your name?

Alex: It’s Alex.

Me (in web guru form): No pretend name?

Alex: No.

And you can only imagine the progress from there. This was a very one-sided practice in improvisation.

Tuesday night, I had a huge dinner with the Noone family (as per usual with Mrs. Noone's tremendous talent for cooking) and in the only way I know how, I baked for the family to show them my affection. Sophie and I baked chocolate chip cookies and danced around the kitchen singing to Frank Ocean with as much soul as we could muster. Also because Sophie is 15 years old and can eat anything she wants, and I’m 22 and still think I can, we mixed the chocolate chip cookies with meringue and Nutella and created the ultimate 3-in-1 sweet that everyone should have the pleasure of experiencing.

I chose to forego the hump day greeting this Wednesday but smiled when I thought about it. Which probably made me look even crazier, sitting there cackling to myself. I was excited to get back to the Noone’s house for another beautiful dinner and the promise of qualifying rounds of X-Factor. We all gathered to watch Australia’s talent compete for a top spot, their future decided by the will of a very bitter ex-Spice Girl. Just as a side note, the family has a television watching practice where they fast-forward it if it gets too uncomfortable. The fast-forwarding is accompanied by exasperated sighs, fearful eye covering and vocalized despair. I’ve personally never experienced such interactive television viewership in my life.

Thursday was uneventful at work but as Brett said “lunchtime then its all about Nandos”. If one can survive lunch, the prospect of 5 o’clock becomes tangible and by extension, so do evening plans. We convened at Nandos, knowing excitedly that our post-Nandos plans were even more enthralling than the meal. After dinner, Matty, Bretts and I ventured to a local theatre for their production of Rent. Though the actor playing Mark was unsure of whether of not he was committing to an American accent and the strangled effort that ensued was an odd German dialect, once that monologue was over, the rest of the show was excellent. What was even more excellent was the talent per capita in the car ride home, where we expertly sang the entire score out loud.

Friday demanded no socialization at work, which was positive given my Rent-induced exhaustion. I went straight to Brett’s house after work and he met me at the train station with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, heavy on the jelly. Isn’t he the best friend! And the best sympathizer to the American pb-n-j cause! We caught a quick Louis Theroux documentary (amazing!) before going to his sister’s house for Shabbat dinner. Tracy’s family is hosting a French student, so between all of us, four continents were represented, given Brett’s family’s African affiliation and all.  Afterwards, I met up with Martha for an outing at The George. The George is the place “to see and be seen”, apparently. Many unexpected reunions as well as expected reunions occurred, from a dance with Emma to a run-in with Daniel’s crew, most notably Zach Sammy Landy (there you go, Zachy boy). What the night was for me, other than an experiment in socializing, was an opportunity for me to inform the D.J. about “what is hot” on American turntables and berate him for not having “Mercy”.

Saturday was so sunny and bright and Daniel and I went for a happy stroll down Chapel Street, only stopping our basking in the sun for a very satisfying breakfast. The next part of the afternoon was spent at the Mitchell’s house, Rhys’ family home. What a place! Each one of Rhys’ family members has an artistic or creative talent that has been nurtured and encouraged since their youth. Their house buzzes with creative energy, from the wall size abstract pieces expertly painted by his brother to the coiled sculptures cluttering the corners, a product of their dad’s aluminum phase. Music floats through the house and the kids emerged from their rooms to meet me and sit on the beautiful porch, discussing “Lolita” and etymology. Martha, Rhys and I then dropped in to see Bretts and go for a stroll in Caulfield, ending up in “Warm Kitchen”, noting the effectiveness of adjectives in product placement. The place was such a dive but the service was nonpareil- as we waited for our meal, we were brought free sodas, free desserts and an egg baked in soy sauce. After this, we strolled in the sunset and proceeded to get ready for a night out with Jacqui and John-o.

With The xx as our soundtrack, we headed to “Bimbos” for four dollar pizzas and lemon, lime and bitters. Facing a table full of pizza and beers, we reminisced about and made plans for Thanksgiving here in Australia. Everyone perfected their best American accent and we got ready for the “ideal time” to be at the Night Cat, our next destination. At the Night Cat, a live jazz band takes the center of the floor and plays everything from Otis Redding to the Isley Brothers to afrobeat. We twisted, shouted and monkey-armed through the night.

Sunday was Father’s Day in Australia and I celebrated two of my surrogate Australian dads. Prior to this, I went for a coffee with Leon, who detailed his recent accounts of freezing his keys, working extra long hours and acquisition of black eyes. I then went to Ellie’s family’s house to celebrate Peter and Ellie's Zaida. The afternoon roast was unbelievable and Zaida spent the lunch informing me about his recent investment in the red wine on the table, timed perfectly after I had refused a glass. I then headed back to the Noone’s house to help prepare for the massive celebration there. The party was two-fold: celebrating Mr. Noone and his fathership and also celebrating Sophie, who is heading off to Italy for 5 months on exchange. The fare ranged from beef and Guinness stew to meatballs, topped off with beautiful strawberry meringues with fresh cream and apple pie. We sat at the “kids table”, which because of the size of the families attending (4-6 kids on average), became the kid’s floor. We laughed all night, ending the night with a listen and sing-along to the One Direction album.

Loving you and sending you hugs xoxo

As always, tunes tunes tunes!

The Harpoons: Keep You Around

http://harpoons.bandcamp.com/

Foxygen: Abandon My Toys

http://foxygen.bandcamp.com/

Jacqueline Taieb: Bientot Tu L'Oublieras

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kPxPVbhNTM

Angel Olsen: Acrobat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxkosKmPwLc

Sam Cooke: A Change is Gonna Come

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbO2_077ixs